


Sleep On It

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous castiel, Angst, Death (Supernatural) - Freeform, Gen, season nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: Season nine.After the brothers argue in the kitchen, Dean falls into an uneasy sleep.He can't get Sam's words out of his mind. "If the circumstances were the same I wouldn't have saved you."The brothers' relationship has never seemed so broken and Dean is grief-stricken until Death arrives to give him a pep-talk and reveal some unknown truths.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23
Collections: Sam and Dean Winchester Gen





	1. Chapter 1

Dean's continuous tossing and turning had caused the sheets to tangle tightly around his body, encasing him like an Egyptian mummy; his comfortable memory-foam mattress doing nothing to soothe his flayed emotions.  
He couldn't imagine anything that could.

Sam's words in the kitchen had floored him, drained all his energies, and left him emptier than a hollowed-out pumpkin whose insides had been painfully scraped out with a blunt knife.  
He pulled at the sheets, impatiently trying to unravel them, their tight hold a cotton prison, but he fell back exhausted.  
Perhaps he was better just leaving them be, he had the impression that the sheets were the only things holding him together at the moment.

He closed his eyes hoping that sleep would take him and allow him to forget Sam's words but he knew it was a false hope; they'd be impressed in his heart in letters of fire forever.  
"If the circumstances were the same I wouldn't have saved you."  
The words had been hammering away at him since Sam had gotten up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Dean to stare at his little brother's back in shock.

He sighed into the sweaty sheets.  
While the emotional part of him was devastated, he could feel the logical part of his mind scolding, whispering that he should use rationality and not let himself be transported by his emotions.  
Remember, it murmured, remember Death's words about not interfering with the natural order; that the universe couldn't condone the Winchesters' meddling, nor their predisposition to saving each other at any cost.

Yet, Dean mused, Death for all his warnings had kept a benevolent eye on the Winchesters, had helped at times, given them advise. The Grim Reaper hadn't seemed all that annoyed with him and Sam, despite their meddling, almost as if he had a soft spot for them.

Finally wrestling an arm from the swaddling sheets, he passed a hand over his face and up through his hair.

What was he going to do? Should he and Sam still hunt together? If Sam was on-board with 'when your time comes you die'; could he depend on his sibling to have his back as fervently as he'd once had, when Sam would've done anything to keep Dean alive.  
Maybe it was time for them to go their separate ways, hunt alone, find other partners or in Sam's case, give up hunting altogether.

His little brother had done it before, he could do it again. He was still in time to go back into the education system, become a lawyer, find a wife, a couple of kids, have the kind of life he'd always wanted.

Although Dean's heart was in shreds, his love for his brother was unchanged.

Maybe it was better they separated for Dean knew he'd never be able to stand by and just let Sam die in his arms; he'd always try to save him whatever the cost. Looking out for Sammy was a part of him, ingrained into his flesh and bones, and he couldn't turn it off no matter what Sam wanted, especially as he had the remedies of the supernatural world at his fingertips. What was the point of being an expert in the occult if they couldn't use it to help each other?

Was it really any different to a surgeon using a scalpel to operate and save lives? If the natural order was so important, then why did doctors get to interfere and save people?

He thought back to the saga of Star Trek where it was a running theory that any technology that couldn't be explained to less advanced races, was looked on as magic.  
Well, the supernatural was his 'technology' so why not use it to save himself and his brother when necessary?

Dean just didn't know what to think anymore.

Maybe Sam was right; making deals had a long history in the Winchester family, and had never brought anything good.  
He'd been present when his young mother had kissed the lips of her possessed father to bring John back to life. John Winchester had done the same for him; then came Dean's turn.

He'd sold his soul for Sam, the thought of an entire existence without his beloved little brother by his side, unsupportable to him.

Sam had tried everything to get Dean out of his deal, even contemplating transforming them both into zombie monsters to avoid it, but to no avail. Dean had gone to Hell and Sam with the promise of revenge on Lilith had fallen into the more than capable hands of the bitch, Ruby!

Sam too had ended up in Hell just to be pulled out without his soul by the ambiguous Castiel and paired up with his grandfather Samuel; he too making his own deal to get his daughter Mary back.

Dean exhaled. The Winchesters must have deal-making ingrained into their DNA, or maybe they were just suckers where family was concerned.

Back in the Church, Dean had opened his heart to Sam. His brother had listened, had renounced closing the gates of Hell and dying in the process even though Sam had been ready and willing to take that final step.

Then when Sam lay dying in that hospital bed, Dean had been at his wit's end and he'd grasped at the opportunity offered to him by Ezekiel. He realized what he was doing was unethical, but just like that day at Cold Oak, he couldn't let go. Couldn't let Sam die.  
Was it selfishness? Whatever the reason, saving Sam had brought them to this.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dean was so tired, tired of fighting, tired of everything. Thankfully Sleep took pity on him and drowned him in oblivion.  
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Mmm," Dean hummed in pleasure as the delicious mouthful of pizza titillated his taste buds.

"Good, isn't it? " the dry voice of his table partner commented.

Alarmed, Dean halted in mid-chew and looked around him. Last he remembered he was asleep in his bed not in a busy pizzeria. Huh, he must be dreaming.

"Not quite, Dean," Death supplied. "You're still in your bed, at least your body is. Let's just say I'm sitting here with your soul."

"What the hell do you want? I've got enough on my plate without having you messing around in my head without permission," Dean scowled, his anger at being dragged around like a ragdoll by supernatural beings rising to the fore.

Death shot him a glare which once would've had Dean trembling in his boots, but he no longer had any fear of the Grim Reaper. Too much water had passed under the bridge. If Death wanted to reap him, he was more than ready.  
An uncaring smirk appeared on his face. "Sorry man, but you're gonna have to do better than that. Dean Winchester's all grown up now and you don't scare me any more than a roach does. Whatever you want, I'm not interested. Though I have to say I appreciate the pizza."

Dean made to push back the chair and stand up, but he found his ass firmly glued to the seat.

Death raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry that the feeble hold I had over you has disappeared, Dean. But in a way, I'm glad you're no longer afraid of me. It puts us on a more... equal... footing; that is if anything can be equal between myself and the ant that you are."

Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "What do you want? Get on with it. I don't like being separated too long from my body. I'm kinda attached to it."

Death finished chewing the bite of pizza and patted fastidiously at his mouth with the napkin.

"I came for Sam you know, in person, when he died in the hospital. We had a brief conversation before the angel you sent turned up and 'persuaded' him to accept a possession he didn't quite realize he was signing up for."

Death was aware of how Dean's attention spiked, the mention of Sam's name focusing his attention on the hollow-cheeked being.

"Your brother was willing to come with me, willing to end his corporal life. Sam deserved some peace, a place to rest, to be with his memories. He was all set to go, no regrets then when you showed up, he accepted what was on offer; to come back to you, turn his back on his heaven because you called to him."

"Huh, well things have changed since then," Dean grunted. "Sam's just after chewing me out. Must be he's thought it over and decided he should've accepted your offer after all."

Death cocked his head.

"I have existed since time immemorial, yet I have still to run across two such as you Winchesters. Sam lashed out at you because he is afraid. He feels unworthy, evil; he wants to die, to purge the world of his presence.  
He has only ever received hate and loathing most of his life. He was infected with demon blood, pursued by Azazel to become the leader of his demon army. Moreover, he blames himself for your suffering in Hell and for listening to Ruby, drinking her blood, and freeing Lucifer.  
Your brother is still considered an abomination by the angels, even by Castiel, though he no longer voices his aversion as he once did. Do not trust him, Dean. He is far too easily manipulated.  
It was his fault as much as Sam's for freeing Lucifer when he allowed Sam to escape from the panic room and go to the convent. He knew what would happen. He just omitted to tell you."

Dean gazed at Death in surprise. "What the hell are you saying? That Cass let Sam out of the panic room? Why would he do that?"

"Ah," Death answered. "I'm surprised you didn't know, Dean. Heaven wanted the Apocalypse, and Sam needed to fulfill his role."

Dean lay back in the chair. "That son of a bitch and I are going to have a little talk when I get back. He made sure not to tell me that little detail."

"There seem to be many things you do not know Dean. Did you know for example that the message you sent Sam from the green room was completely altered to encourage him to go through with freeing the devil?

Perhaps if your brother had received your true message, he might have had second thoughts."

"Just what are you saying?"

"I believe I have been clear, Dean. The message you sent was not the one Sam received. The angels altered it to beat down Sam's already low self-esteem. He believed you thought him a monster and so had nothing to lose."

Dean felt the tears coming to his eyes.

"Anything else you want to share with the class, to make me feel even more of a douche?"

"There are many more," Death intimated enigmatically. "But they are irrelevant to our little discussion. The point is your brother feels unworthy to live. I predict it will not be too long before I come to reap him again, and this time for good. When the next monster tries to tear him to shreds, he will not fight it more than necessary. He will accept his fate.  
Why do you think he said those words to you last night? He wants you to break away; to feel less for him; to love him less, so that when the time comes you will let him go without a fuss, thinking that what you had together is broken.  
So, if you want your brother to live you must convince him of his worth.  
Well, Dean, it's always nice to speak with you, but I have other duties to attend to."  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dean awoke, still tight in the hold of the sheets, Death's words echoing in his ears.

There was nothing he could do about the past but maybe it wasn't too late to change the future. Freeing himself of the invasive bed covers, he slipped silently into Sam's room and picked up his sibling's phone.

He made his way to the kitchen and pulled up the messages, tinkering around until he found the oldest one on file. He pressed the button and listened to his own voice saying words he'd never pronounced.

" Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam - a vampire. You're not you anymore. And there's no going back."

Dean swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. It was just like Sam to have kept it, used it to torture himself.

So Death hadn't been lying; he believed him about Castiel too. Dean had never been sure of the angel, but he was going to be very careful from now on. Castiel had never been completely truthful with him, but two could play at that game.

He was still lost in his thoughts when Sam appeared in the doorway.

"Why did you take my phone, Dean? " he asked tiredly, dark shadows under his eyes.

Dean pressed the button and the message repeated itself.

Sam's face blanched from pale to white as he jumped forward to snatch the phone from Dean's hand, but Dean was faster and he gripped his younger brother's arm.

"Look at me Sam," he ordered.

Sam's eyes reluctantly latched on to Dean's green ones.

"I...DID...NOT...SEND...THIS...MESSAGE," he enunciated slowly so there would be no mistake.

Sam frowned. "What...but.."

"I'll rephrase that," Dean grimaced. "I did send you a message but it wasn't THAT. I can't remember the exact words but I remember saying I was pissed and I owed you a beat-down; that I shouldn't have said what I did; that whatever happened we were still brothers and however bad it got that didn't change. That I was sorry.  
Someone, and I'm betting the angels, changed it. I'd never have said that to you, Sammy, even if I've said a lot of crap to your face that I never meant. It was always just me taking my anger out on the person nearest to me, and unfortunately, you got all the backlash."

Sam slid down slowly onto the nearest chair. His big brother was sincere. Dean was telling the truth.

He huffed ironically. Sam Winchester, duped for the umpteenth time.

"I was having doubts back then, Dean," he explained slowly. "I wasn't sure about what I was doing but when I got your message, it pushed me over the edge. I'd lost your love. You thought me a monster. I had nothing to live for."

"Listen, man, It's all in the past now," Dean said as he canceled the message. "We can't do anything to change it. It's not your fault, Sam. Everything was stacked against you; against us. We didn't have a chance."

He wasn't going to tell Sam about Castiel. It could wait. Dean knew, and that was all that mattered for the moment.

"Listen, Sammy, I know I've said and done things to hurt you; well, we both have," he qualified as Sam stared at him, doubtful. "But we're still alive and we can alter things; make them better.  
What you said last night, about not saving me if you'd been faced with the same set of circumstances? Maybe you were right. Maybe I should've let you die, I dunno. But I didn't and both of us are still here to bitch at each other.  
You know I'm not one for emotional show-downs but I want to say something I've never said to you except when you were too much of a kid to remember it. You're my brother, Sammy. I love you, man and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.  
What I said in that church, I meant every word of it. There's nobody I'd put before you, nobody.

Is that selfish? Maybe it is. But that's how I feel about you.  
If you want to take your stuff and go, or if you want me to go, I will. Whatever you want Sam is fine with me."

Sam bit his upper lip until a drop of blood fell from the wound.

If he spoke, he'd burst into tears, and he didn't know if he'd be able to stop.

"Don't go, Dean. Don't leave me--- ever," was all he managed to stutter before he pushed back the chair and ran to his room.

Dean looked down at Sam's phone.

He knew his emo little brother needed time to put his thoughts in order, but tomorrow they'd talk again.

They were siblings. They'd fix this.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

The ampoule of holy oil dangled heavily from his hand, one finger pushed through the small circular handle of the ancient bottle.

He'd scouted around until he'd found a warehouse, its state of abandon perfect for the little tête-à-tête he intended to have with Castiel.

Death's words still echoed in his ears.

Cass had let Sam out of the panic room, a little detail the angel had accurately neglected to share with him; one of who knows how many others.

Dean shook his head in frustration and regret.

At the end of the day, all the players in the Apocalypse drama had contributed to causing Lucifer's escape from the Cage, yet the only one to take the punishment had been Sammy. His heart ached for his little brother. There was nothing he could do to change the past but the future was still to be written.

His little chat with Castiel would change nothing, but at least he could release some of his anger with a being who had not been truthful.

He gently eased out the stopper and tilted the vase until the thick oil poured out sluggishly, ably tracing an almost perfect circle on the dirty floor.

Taking a step back, Dean called to the angel.

"Cass, Get your ass down here pronto. I've got some info you might wanna hear. Some heaven stuff I picked up that could give you the upper hand."

Dean had no qualms about lying.

He knew if there was any way for the angel to make a quick appearance, it was offering him tit-bits about heaven; of all the times he had called on Cass for help, those were the ones where he'd always appeared instantly, just as he did now.

Dean snorted ironically, as the flapping of the trench coat to which the angel was obsessively attached, announced his arrival.

"You have news for me?" Castiel asked, his face expressionless.

" Yeah... No, not really! " Dean answered, throwing a match to the floor and causing the oil to flare up.

"Dean, why do you imprison me?" The angel's head tilted up in confusion.

"You and I need to have a little talk, man. Just making sure you can't wing off before it's finished," Dean declared, moving back from the pulsing flames.

"You know, Cass," he began. "I've always had mixed feelings towards you. On the one hand, I'd become fond of you, looked on you as a friend; however, you've been guilty of doing some terrible things, things that I sorta forgave you for, or pushed aside in the name of that very friendship.

As you're well aware, I don't really have that many people falling over their ass to become my friend, so when I do find one, I try to hold on to them as long as possible. That's what I did with you. The thing is though, I don't forgive betrayal very well, especially from those I do look on as a friend.

"Dean, I don't understand what you are saying. I have tried to be a good friend to you, " the angel objected.

"Yeah, well I had an unexpected visit from an old acquaintance yesterday and he opened my eyes on a few things concerning you, so I just wanted to get your side of the story," Dean explained.

"I will answer you if I can," Castiel answered.

"You say I'm your friend. What about Sam? Is he your friend too?" Dean asked.

Castiel hesitated before answering. " Yes, I consider Sam a friend. Have I done anything to make you believe otherwise?"

"I'll put it differently then," Dean said. "If you could only save one of us, would you choose to save me or would you choose to save Sam?"

"Dean. What is the point of asking me such a question? If I could, I would try and save you both."

"That's the politically correct answer, Cass. Now give me the real one, or I'll leave your ass to cook in that holy oil for the rest of eternity," Dean threatened.

"If the circumstances were desperate and I could only save one, my choice would be you, Dean. You are Michael's vessel and it is in my nature to favor Michael over Lucifer. But that doesn't mean I would not save Sam if I could," the angel replied.

"So what you're saying, Cass, is that you consider Sam to be more expendable than me."

"I did not say that. You posed me a hypothetical question in which you urged me to make a choice and I chose you."

Dean cocked his head.

"Okay then. Was it you who let Sam out of the panic room to go and kill Lilith and free Lucifer? At the time I never gave it much thought, I was too upset about him getting out to wonder how he managed."

Castiel averted his eyes.

"Why is that important to you? The apocalypse is in the past, there is no point in bringing this up now. We have other problems to deal with. Metatron has closed heaven to all angels. I have to concentrate on fixing that," Castiel declared.

Dean studied him."So, it was you?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, Dean; what Heaven wanted," Castiel declared. "It was written that the apocalypse had to take place. Sam had to free Lucifer. I know now I made the wrong choices. If I could I would change things."

"Well," Dean grimaced, restlessly circling the flames. "We both know that history can't be changed. So now I'm wondering why you bothered to send me back in time to see Mary make the deal with Azazel when John died. And you know what? I think you did that on purpose."

"No, Dean. I sent you back to let you witness what had happened, and to allow you to stop Sam from going down the path of drinking demon blood."

"That sorta contradicts the fact that you let Sam out of the panic room, Cass. You say you sent me back so I would stop Sam, and when I did imprison him in the panic room, you set him free. Forgive me if I don't believe you.  
Do you know what I believe? I think you sent me back because I had to get Azazel to notice Mary, and so get Sam's scent; 'cos if I hadn't gone back, Azazel would never have met mom and this whole demon-blood stuff would never have happened.  
But the dicks upstairs needed to get on board with the Apocalypse, so Sam was sacrificed."

Castiel nodded.

"It seems you have become aware of many things, Dean, so I will tell you the truth. It was planned that you and Sam would fulfill your destinies by whatever means possible. We angels did not pull you from Hell earlier, not because we couldn't, but because you had to succumb to the torture and so break the first seal.  
Even if you had resisted longer, we would not have come for you until you broke under Alastair. I am sorry that you had to suffer Hell, Dean but the prophecy had to be respected."

Dean turned away. It hurt to realize the utter callousness of the angels.

"So," he smirked, to cover his delusion. "Anything else you want to share now that you're on the road to confession, Cass? What about Sam? Did you pull him out of the Cage without his soul on purpose?"

"No Dean. I swear! I wanted to bring him back to you, body and soul. I could not understand why he did not come to you."

"And you didn't wonder why that was?" Dean scowled. ." Or thought to clue me in that my little brother was back on Earth?"

Castiel looked away guiltily.

"You didn't know when you pulled him out that he was without his soul, but you soon realized it, didn't you? " Dean continued. "When you and Crowley needed a strong young healthy hunter to partner Samuel, Sammy was perfect; the fact that he didn't have his soul made him even more dangerous."

"We had to find the entrance to Purgatory, and capturing and interrogating alphas was our best option." Castiel tried to defend himself.

"Huh. You used Sammy as a killing machine and callously left his soul in the Cage for Lucifer to torture. Yeah, you're a real sweet guy, Cass!"

"Dean, you don't understand. Raphael wanted to re-start the Apocalypse. What I did, I did for you too. To protect you. You were happy with Lisa; even Bobby did not wish to let you know Sam was out of the Cage. We all wanted to protect you," Castiel vowed.

"What about Sam?" Dean snarled angrily. "No one seems to care about him. About his pain and suffering. You broke his wall, just to keep me from coming after you. You could have done a million different things to keep us out of the way, Cass. Sent us to Outer Mongolia, to some desert island, but you chose to hurt Sammy."

"I was not myself Dean. .." Castiel objected.

"Oh yes, you were! You were exactly yourself, Cass. The real you. The one who'd do anything for Heaven because, for you, nothing is more important, certainly not Sam! Whatever friendship you think we shared, ends right here. Sam and I are together again. If we have any problems we'll muddle through them.  
Sam is my life; it might not be normal, but when have our lives ever been normal? He's the only thing I care about and I'll always put him before everything. Certainly, you, heaven, and the angels don't come anywhere near to Sam, not even to lick the mud off his boots.  
This is good-bye Cass. Keep away from me and especially from Sam. My little brother has probably forgiven you, but I never will."

"Dean..."

"I don't want to listen to anything more, Cass. You have your destiny, and Sam and I have ours."

Dean threw a metal tube over the flaming circle, breaking it, then turned towards the door, without regrets. Better to have no friends than untrustworthy ones. All he needed was Sam and if Sam left him he'd manage alone.  
He didn't look back when the swish of wings told him that Castiel had gone.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Dean," his brother's voice echoed from the shadows at the back of the warehouse.

"Sammy?" Dean frowned in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Sam shrugged embarrassed. "I followed you when I heard you go out. We've got a garage filled with cars now, so no big deal."

"How much did you hear?" Dean asked.

"Nearly everything."

"Good, so I don't have to repeat it," Dean added, continuing on towards the door.

"Dean... " Sam said softly with his 'are you sure you've done the right thing' voice. "Cass has always been your friend..."

Dean held up a hand in warning.

"Sam. Don't start! Cass was our friend when it suited him. Sometimes it's better to make a clean break than to wonder when your 'friend' is going to stab you in the back."

"Um," Sam continued. " What you said to Cass about me..."

"Sam, not now. Please don't throw a chick-flick moment on me."

But Sam was completely in the mood for one, and he gripped Dean's arm.

"What you said about me being the most important thing in your life.." he repeated.

Dean sighed and pinched his nose.

"I've said it in all the ways possible, Sam. You will always be number one for me, whether you want to go and hunt with someone else or marry some chick with a dog; that will never change. You're carved into my heart and soul. Sorry if that freaks you out man, but that's the way it is."

Sam's eyes were huge and moist, as he pulled his brother to him.

"Thank you, Dean. I've always let you down and yet you still care."

"Shut up, Sammy. You could have become the Antichrist and I'd probably have ended up following you into Hell. I'm a hopeless case where you're concerned, little brother, " Dean sighed.

Sam wanted to say so many things but all he managed to do was rest his head in the crook of Dean's neck and hold on tight to his big brother.

There would be time to talk later.

The End


End file.
